[fic] Cyborg Gabriel 4/?
Title: Cyborg Gabriel 4/?
Fandom: Supernatural.
Rating: PG-13ish.
Warnings: Minor violence/descriptions of injuries. (No warnings for this chapter, though.)
Pairings/Characters: Gabriel, Castiel, Sam, Dean, Rapahel.
Word Count: 2,198 words, with 9,590 total so far.
Summary: Archangel Class Cyborgs are terrifying in combat, and practically unknowable off the battlefield. Castiel's an experimental unit with an unusual design, and he's caught Gabriel's interest.
Note: I refer you all to the first part of this cyborg story for notes and whatnot.
I extend many thanks to synnerxx, stharridan, _bluebells, and theinsaneeraser for wordwars! You guys are the reason I'm not failing miserably at posting more of this. :3
Warning! This is still a WIP and while more is coming within a day or two, you should read this at your own risk. If you're cool with that, then, read on!
---
"You're asking all the wrong questions, Sam."
"What?" Sam says, looking up from his desk. He can't stop the next yelp, because he is at his personal home, and why is there Gabriel standing in the doorway. "What - what are you doing here?"
"Raphael paid Castiel a visit last night, Dean chewed me out because you complained to him, yadda yadda." Gabriel waves a hand, and comes in. "We need to talk."
Sam opens his mouth to say something but doesn't get any words out. Because Gabriel isn't in his usual uniform out here, and the white he saw in the doorway was the white t-shirt he's wearing. The rest of the outfit is purely civilian: green jacket, blue jeans, stuff Sam could find in Dean's closet.
Sam's first thought is that it looks wrong on Gabriel's immaculately carved features. He'd gotten used to the uniforms, impractical and antiquated as they appeared, but they fit with the appearance of the angels in the first place.
"You're - " Sam says, and he can't help it. "You look like you're trying to imitate Castiel."
Gabriel's features twist, and he plucks at the jacket. "What, I can't dress casual?"
"Not with that hair." And this has officially become the weirdest conversation Sam's had in a long time.
"I'll have you know I designed this hair specifically to fit me." Gabriel runs a hand over it - there's the other thing about the angels that Sam has never gotten. Especially for the archangels. Only certain parts of their insides are biological, the rest of their bodies are metal - well, except for portions that are plastic and a host of technological wonders that allow their faces to be expressive, but thing is, Gabriel's hair wasn't made like that. None of the angels have organic hair (Castiel being the exception) and it's carved metal. White, gleaming, like the rest of Gabriel.
"You designed it?" Sam asks, and Gabriel rolls his eyes.
"Of course I did. I've had it before, I like how it looks, a tribute to the old vessel - " Gabriel is abruptly silent. He meets Sam's eyes. "As I was saying. You're asking all the wrong questions."
"Then what should I be asking?" Sam asks, reminding himself to be suspicious. He needs to be wary of Gabriel, and he can't let himself be drawn in by the odd details Gabriel keeps dropping.
Gabriel thunks the heel of his hand to his forehead and sighs. "How obvious do I need to be with you? The odd details! Stop ignoring them!"
"What?" Sam asks. "You honestly want me to keep asking about your hair?"
"Sam, you're smarter than that. I'm relying on that."
"Then...'tribute to the old vessel'?" Sam says, frowning. He hadn't understood it, and that was something he learned right-quick when working with the angels in general. If he didn't understand it, he wasn't supposed to ask about it, as then he'd find himself stumbling into top secret information really quickly, and he wanted some freedom in what he could say and write in his private hours.
"Sam Winchester. You're finally getting it. I'm asking you to resurrect the curiosity they beat out of you, and I'm asking you to apply it to me and everything I'm saying."
"Why?"
"Figure it out for yourself." Gabriel says, and plops down on the desk, legs uncomfortably close to Sam's arm. Sam scoots his chair back.
"Fine. I'll play your game." Sam says, crossing his arms. "What did you mean by vessel?"
"I'm wearing one right now. It's the body, meatsuit, metalsuit...you know, that thing."
"Why not just call it a body?"
"Why not call a hotel room a home? I leave this vessel, I still have a home to go back to."
"Back to...?"
"And aha! We are beginning to approach the correct line of questions, Sam. I'd say that I'm proud of you, but I have to drag you into this, so no. I'm not proud."
"You want me to ask these questions, Gabriel, so why not answer them?" Sam asks, and decides that this is getting frustrating again.
"I can't do that."
"Can't?" Sam asks. "Why on earth can't you answer these questions?"
"On earth...you've answered yourself, Sam. The reasons I can't answer are on earth right now, and I'm actually missing a meeting with one right now. Which will annoy him royally, but hey, it'll make the point I wanted to make to him, and as a bonus I don't have to be there in person to make it!"
"Missing a meeting with one right now." Sam says, thinking now. He'd heard the phrase 'making a point' just the other day, too, when he questioned Dean about why Castiel was damaged like that, and in connection with Gabriel... "Are you missing a meeting with Dean right now?" He asks, straightening, absolutely ready to scold Gabriel if he needed to..
Gabriel didn't miss a beat before he broke out in laughter, but then just as abruptly the laughter faded, even if the amusement remained in Gabriel's tone of voice.
"Dean? Ha, no. He's too much fun to miss meeting with, and he's going to be too quick to jump the gun on restricting my movements after Castiel, so I have to be a good little archangel for the time being. No, no, missing an appointment with humans is bad news, even for me. Even if Michael was the one who laid down that law in the first place..." Gabriel shrugs, and twirls his finger. "Crank that brain box harder, Sammy, and tell me who I'm not seeing right now, and tell me about the reasons why I can't be straight with you."
"You can't tell me straight, but you can lead me by the nose to the conclusions you want me to come to." Sam rubs his forehead. "There's a reason you can't tell me straight, and it's actually a someone."
"Go on, o wise one."
"This someone is an angel. An angel you'd respect and follow, and an angel capable of giving orders. Therefore it's one of the other archangels."
"Ah, but good things come in threes."
"All of the other archangels. They don't want you talking to me."
"I can talk to you all I want, Sam. It's the content."
"What are you hiding? What are they hiding?"
Gabriel is abruptly off the desk, standing. He looks around as Sam watches, then touches his forehead. "I'll give you a gift," He says, and whispers words that Sam doesn't recognize, except for one. "...Amen."
Sam's eyes twitch, and he feels disoriented for a moment, as if something - Gabriel's glowing, Archangels don't glow unless they're about to release one of their weapons, he should run except there's no running from - Sam blinks and Gabriel's not glowing, just an ordinary guy in ordinary clothes except that his skin is metal and his hair isn't hair.
"What did you do?" Sam asks, and is so weirdly proud that his voice doesn't shake after that. He's rattled, and he wouldn't be surprised if Gabriel did that just to keep him off balance.
"I can't read your mind anymore, Sam. Neither can my brothers. When they notice, go ahead and tell them I did it for you. But don't tell them why."
Sam almost, almost asks him why he did that for him. But there's the thing, he already knows. Gabriel wants him to learn things that he shouldn't by following the hints Gabriel's given him, and Gabriel wants him to do it without letting the other archangels find out.
Gabriel's covering his own ass, basically. It's not a gift.
"Take it off," Sam says.
"Rejecting my gift?"
"I won't protect you."
Gabriel's eyes narrow into golden slits. "Going to play like that, then?"
Sam stares back, resolute. As fascinating as the information is, it's not worth subterfuge against the three most powerful beings on the planet. (Not counting certain demons, but Sam doesn't know for sure and he's not willing to follow up that line of thought. Not now, at any rate.)
"Unfortunately for you, Sam, I am beginning to take you seriously. So let me make this clear." Gabriel sounds reasonable. Calm. Menacing. He raises a finger. "I spend several hours a week in a locked room alone with Dean Winchester. I just took about ten seconds to put a block over your mind so archangels can't read it. I know you have an active imagination, so fill in the blanks and decide if you want to work with me or not. Your choice."
Gabriel blows on his finger and puts his hands in his pockets.
Sam thinks he might hate him a little. Or a lot. But Gabriel can't read his mind, so he lets himself decide that he hates Gabriel a lot.
"Your secrets are safe with me," Sam says, instead of voicing his thoughts. "Do anything to Dean and they won't be."
"Of course, of course." Gabriel waves a hand. "Nice talking to you, Sam. I'll see you tomorrow, same time same station?"
"Gabriel. I'll be at the Facility tomorrow."
"The next time you're alone and with a spare fifteen minutes, expect me to talk to you. And if that doesn't happen all day, I have no issues with watching you sleep, remember."
Gabriel gives him his most innocent grin and walks out.
Sam reminds himself again that his thoughts are inviolate - Gabriel wouldn't lie about that - and decides that Gabriel is a bastard. An absolute bastard.
Sam can't help but think one more thing, before he turns his mind from Gabriel: he's also an absolutely fascinating bastard, and despite himself he wants to know more.
---
Castiel isn't let out of the room nor released to be returned to his duties until Dean Winchester visits him. Dean has a measure of authority here, but that's not what Castiel knows him for. No, Dean is Gabriel's handler. So to speak.
Castiel is sitting up on the table when Dean walks in. He is studying the trench coat hung on the wall and wondering for the first time why he has been allowed to keep it, and wear it.
He straightens and looks to Dean when he realizes that Dean is there.
Dean crosses his arms and studies him. Castiel wonders what he sees.
"Gabriel told me why he did it," Dean says, after a moment.
Castiel lifts his chin. He wants to know. He wants Dean to tell him. He's half expecting his emotions to rear up and make him afraid of Gabriel, and make him afraid of what Dean will say, but Raphael's stop-gap is still in effect. Castiel is calm. Distantly he wonders if he is too calm, and distantly he wonders if it was better being afraid. But he remembers that under the skin he is wearing, there is metal holding him together.
"Castiel."
"Yes?" Castiel asks.
"He did it to make a point. He objects to your existence. I can't say I understand or agree with him, but that's what motivated him."
"Oh," Castiel says, and, "Why didn't he finish the job?"
"He was making a point," Dean repeats. "He does stupid things, but he's not stupid enough to destroy you without authorization either, and he doesn't have that. He won't get it, if I can help it."
Castiel blinks at that, surprise leaking through the calm. "You don't agree with his point?"
Dean drops his arms, and Castiel reads surprise in his gestures. "Of course not!"
Castiel tells himself not to, but the surprise he feels impels him onwards. "Why?"
"They wouldn't make you without a reason," Dean starts, then shakes his head. That's not the reason, Castiel can tell. Dean starts again. "Gabriel can't get away with destroying you just because you're like him," Dean says finally. "You remind me a lot of the archangels in general."
Castiel stills.
Dean comes closer. "That expression you've got right now. I don't know if it's fake or not, but you look like you're feeling something. Like the archangels do."
Castiel swallows, and nods. He is feeling something. He's been encouraged not to be obvious when speaking with most humans, but...Dean has guessed it. He reminds himself that Dean is Gabriel's handler, so he can be trusted.
Dean gives a low whistle. "That confirms it, then. Castiel, I'm actually officially here to let you know you can return to your duties. So you'd better get going."
Castiel is automatically getting up and pulling on the coat the moment the words leave Dean's mouth. He does pause to look at Dean once more.
"I feel surprise," Castiel says softly. "More often I feel fear. I'm not very good at controlling my emotions yet, but I am going to correct that flaw."
"...right," Dean says, and Castiel gets going.
Yet: "...that's not right," Dean says quietly, and Castiel overhears it as he leaves. He closes his eyes briefly, but keeps going.
There's nothing he can do to change what Dean is thinking, and he must trust that Dean will remain professional in his actions, and not imitate his charge.
---
Previous | Next
Fandom: Supernatural.
Rating: PG-13ish.
Warnings: Minor violence/descriptions of injuries. (No warnings for this chapter, though.)
Pairings/Characters: Gabriel, Castiel, Sam, Dean, Rapahel.
Word Count: 2,198 words, with 9,590 total so far.
Summary: Archangel Class Cyborgs are terrifying in combat, and practically unknowable off the battlefield. Castiel's an experimental unit with an unusual design, and he's caught Gabriel's interest.
Note: I refer you all to the first part of this cyborg story for notes and whatnot.
I extend many thanks to synnerxx, stharridan, _bluebells, and theinsaneeraser for wordwars! You guys are the reason I'm not failing miserably at posting more of this. :3
Warning! This is still a WIP and while more is coming within a day or two, you should read this at your own risk. If you're cool with that, then, read on!
---
"You're asking all the wrong questions, Sam."
"What?" Sam says, looking up from his desk. He can't stop the next yelp, because he is at his personal home, and why is there Gabriel standing in the doorway. "What - what are you doing here?"
"Raphael paid Castiel a visit last night, Dean chewed me out because you complained to him, yadda yadda." Gabriel waves a hand, and comes in. "We need to talk."
Sam opens his mouth to say something but doesn't get any words out. Because Gabriel isn't in his usual uniform out here, and the white he saw in the doorway was the white t-shirt he's wearing. The rest of the outfit is purely civilian: green jacket, blue jeans, stuff Sam could find in Dean's closet.
Sam's first thought is that it looks wrong on Gabriel's immaculately carved features. He'd gotten used to the uniforms, impractical and antiquated as they appeared, but they fit with the appearance of the angels in the first place.
"You're - " Sam says, and he can't help it. "You look like you're trying to imitate Castiel."
Gabriel's features twist, and he plucks at the jacket. "What, I can't dress casual?"
"Not with that hair." And this has officially become the weirdest conversation Sam's had in a long time.
"I'll have you know I designed this hair specifically to fit me." Gabriel runs a hand over it - there's the other thing about the angels that Sam has never gotten. Especially for the archangels. Only certain parts of their insides are biological, the rest of their bodies are metal - well, except for portions that are plastic and a host of technological wonders that allow their faces to be expressive, but thing is, Gabriel's hair wasn't made like that. None of the angels have organic hair (Castiel being the exception) and it's carved metal. White, gleaming, like the rest of Gabriel.
"You designed it?" Sam asks, and Gabriel rolls his eyes.
"Of course I did. I've had it before, I like how it looks, a tribute to the old vessel - " Gabriel is abruptly silent. He meets Sam's eyes. "As I was saying. You're asking all the wrong questions."
"Then what should I be asking?" Sam asks, reminding himself to be suspicious. He needs to be wary of Gabriel, and he can't let himself be drawn in by the odd details Gabriel keeps dropping.
Gabriel thunks the heel of his hand to his forehead and sighs. "How obvious do I need to be with you? The odd details! Stop ignoring them!"
"What?" Sam asks. "You honestly want me to keep asking about your hair?"
"Sam, you're smarter than that. I'm relying on that."
"Then...'tribute to the old vessel'?" Sam says, frowning. He hadn't understood it, and that was something he learned right-quick when working with the angels in general. If he didn't understand it, he wasn't supposed to ask about it, as then he'd find himself stumbling into top secret information really quickly, and he wanted some freedom in what he could say and write in his private hours.
"Sam Winchester. You're finally getting it. I'm asking you to resurrect the curiosity they beat out of you, and I'm asking you to apply it to me and everything I'm saying."
"Why?"
"Figure it out for yourself." Gabriel says, and plops down on the desk, legs uncomfortably close to Sam's arm. Sam scoots his chair back.
"Fine. I'll play your game." Sam says, crossing his arms. "What did you mean by vessel?"
"I'm wearing one right now. It's the body, meatsuit, metalsuit...you know, that thing."
"Why not just call it a body?"
"Why not call a hotel room a home? I leave this vessel, I still have a home to go back to."
"Back to...?"
"And aha! We are beginning to approach the correct line of questions, Sam. I'd say that I'm proud of you, but I have to drag you into this, so no. I'm not proud."
"You want me to ask these questions, Gabriel, so why not answer them?" Sam asks, and decides that this is getting frustrating again.
"I can't do that."
"Can't?" Sam asks. "Why on earth can't you answer these questions?"
"On earth...you've answered yourself, Sam. The reasons I can't answer are on earth right now, and I'm actually missing a meeting with one right now. Which will annoy him royally, but hey, it'll make the point I wanted to make to him, and as a bonus I don't have to be there in person to make it!"
"Missing a meeting with one right now." Sam says, thinking now. He'd heard the phrase 'making a point' just the other day, too, when he questioned Dean about why Castiel was damaged like that, and in connection with Gabriel... "Are you missing a meeting with Dean right now?" He asks, straightening, absolutely ready to scold Gabriel if he needed to..
Gabriel didn't miss a beat before he broke out in laughter, but then just as abruptly the laughter faded, even if the amusement remained in Gabriel's tone of voice.
"Dean? Ha, no. He's too much fun to miss meeting with, and he's going to be too quick to jump the gun on restricting my movements after Castiel, so I have to be a good little archangel for the time being. No, no, missing an appointment with humans is bad news, even for me. Even if Michael was the one who laid down that law in the first place..." Gabriel shrugs, and twirls his finger. "Crank that brain box harder, Sammy, and tell me who I'm not seeing right now, and tell me about the reasons why I can't be straight with you."
"You can't tell me straight, but you can lead me by the nose to the conclusions you want me to come to." Sam rubs his forehead. "There's a reason you can't tell me straight, and it's actually a someone."
"Go on, o wise one."
"This someone is an angel. An angel you'd respect and follow, and an angel capable of giving orders. Therefore it's one of the other archangels."
"Ah, but good things come in threes."
"All of the other archangels. They don't want you talking to me."
"I can talk to you all I want, Sam. It's the content."
"What are you hiding? What are they hiding?"
Gabriel is abruptly off the desk, standing. He looks around as Sam watches, then touches his forehead. "I'll give you a gift," He says, and whispers words that Sam doesn't recognize, except for one. "...Amen."
Sam's eyes twitch, and he feels disoriented for a moment, as if something - Gabriel's glowing, Archangels don't glow unless they're about to release one of their weapons, he should run except there's no running from - Sam blinks and Gabriel's not glowing, just an ordinary guy in ordinary clothes except that his skin is metal and his hair isn't hair.
"What did you do?" Sam asks, and is so weirdly proud that his voice doesn't shake after that. He's rattled, and he wouldn't be surprised if Gabriel did that just to keep him off balance.
"I can't read your mind anymore, Sam. Neither can my brothers. When they notice, go ahead and tell them I did it for you. But don't tell them why."
Sam almost, almost asks him why he did that for him. But there's the thing, he already knows. Gabriel wants him to learn things that he shouldn't by following the hints Gabriel's given him, and Gabriel wants him to do it without letting the other archangels find out.
Gabriel's covering his own ass, basically. It's not a gift.
"Take it off," Sam says.
"Rejecting my gift?"
"I won't protect you."
Gabriel's eyes narrow into golden slits. "Going to play like that, then?"
Sam stares back, resolute. As fascinating as the information is, it's not worth subterfuge against the three most powerful beings on the planet. (Not counting certain demons, but Sam doesn't know for sure and he's not willing to follow up that line of thought. Not now, at any rate.)
"Unfortunately for you, Sam, I am beginning to take you seriously. So let me make this clear." Gabriel sounds reasonable. Calm. Menacing. He raises a finger. "I spend several hours a week in a locked room alone with Dean Winchester. I just took about ten seconds to put a block over your mind so archangels can't read it. I know you have an active imagination, so fill in the blanks and decide if you want to work with me or not. Your choice."
Gabriel blows on his finger and puts his hands in his pockets.
Sam thinks he might hate him a little. Or a lot. But Gabriel can't read his mind, so he lets himself decide that he hates Gabriel a lot.
"Your secrets are safe with me," Sam says, instead of voicing his thoughts. "Do anything to Dean and they won't be."
"Of course, of course." Gabriel waves a hand. "Nice talking to you, Sam. I'll see you tomorrow, same time same station?"
"Gabriel. I'll be at the Facility tomorrow."
"The next time you're alone and with a spare fifteen minutes, expect me to talk to you. And if that doesn't happen all day, I have no issues with watching you sleep, remember."
Gabriel gives him his most innocent grin and walks out.
Sam reminds himself again that his thoughts are inviolate - Gabriel wouldn't lie about that - and decides that Gabriel is a bastard. An absolute bastard.
Sam can't help but think one more thing, before he turns his mind from Gabriel: he's also an absolutely fascinating bastard, and despite himself he wants to know more.
---
Castiel isn't let out of the room nor released to be returned to his duties until Dean Winchester visits him. Dean has a measure of authority here, but that's not what Castiel knows him for. No, Dean is Gabriel's handler. So to speak.
Castiel is sitting up on the table when Dean walks in. He is studying the trench coat hung on the wall and wondering for the first time why he has been allowed to keep it, and wear it.
He straightens and looks to Dean when he realizes that Dean is there.
Dean crosses his arms and studies him. Castiel wonders what he sees.
"Gabriel told me why he did it," Dean says, after a moment.
Castiel lifts his chin. He wants to know. He wants Dean to tell him. He's half expecting his emotions to rear up and make him afraid of Gabriel, and make him afraid of what Dean will say, but Raphael's stop-gap is still in effect. Castiel is calm. Distantly he wonders if he is too calm, and distantly he wonders if it was better being afraid. But he remembers that under the skin he is wearing, there is metal holding him together.
"Castiel."
"Yes?" Castiel asks.
"He did it to make a point. He objects to your existence. I can't say I understand or agree with him, but that's what motivated him."
"Oh," Castiel says, and, "Why didn't he finish the job?"
"He was making a point," Dean repeats. "He does stupid things, but he's not stupid enough to destroy you without authorization either, and he doesn't have that. He won't get it, if I can help it."
Castiel blinks at that, surprise leaking through the calm. "You don't agree with his point?"
Dean drops his arms, and Castiel reads surprise in his gestures. "Of course not!"
Castiel tells himself not to, but the surprise he feels impels him onwards. "Why?"
"They wouldn't make you without a reason," Dean starts, then shakes his head. That's not the reason, Castiel can tell. Dean starts again. "Gabriel can't get away with destroying you just because you're like him," Dean says finally. "You remind me a lot of the archangels in general."
Castiel stills.
Dean comes closer. "That expression you've got right now. I don't know if it's fake or not, but you look like you're feeling something. Like the archangels do."
Castiel swallows, and nods. He is feeling something. He's been encouraged not to be obvious when speaking with most humans, but...Dean has guessed it. He reminds himself that Dean is Gabriel's handler, so he can be trusted.
Dean gives a low whistle. "That confirms it, then. Castiel, I'm actually officially here to let you know you can return to your duties. So you'd better get going."
Castiel is automatically getting up and pulling on the coat the moment the words leave Dean's mouth. He does pause to look at Dean once more.
"I feel surprise," Castiel says softly. "More often I feel fear. I'm not very good at controlling my emotions yet, but I am going to correct that flaw."
"...right," Dean says, and Castiel gets going.
Yet: "...that's not right," Dean says quietly, and Castiel overhears it as he leaves. He closes his eyes briefly, but keeps going.
There's nothing he can do to change what Dean is thinking, and he must trust that Dean will remain professional in his actions, and not imitate his charge.
---
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